(Extended) Family Breakfast

I hear the soft beeping next to my bed and, as quickly and quietly as possible, slide out without rousing the little ones that always seem to migrate in the night.  After a quick shower and pushing "brew" on the coffee maker, I wander outside and water marigolds and lilies (is there anything more peaceful than a watering in the early morning?).  I water me, too.

Hands hugging sunshine bright porcelain, I flip through the pages of well worn cookbooks.  Guests for breakfast this morning makes me question my usual fare.   


Setting the table in deep silence, taking deep breaths to try and hold on to it a little longer.  In an hour or so, this room will echo with laughter and the voices of 3 generations while forks scrape plates and I scramble to gather moments to take out and hold later on.


Its a funny thing, this family.  A mere 8 years ago, I didn't know these faces that I now love so well.  I was drifting to life not knowing that I was missing something that would become such a giant piece of who I am.  Not only my own children, but the family of my husband.  How I would come to see them as parents, sister.

Even before the babies came, wondering, "Could they ever love me?  Could they ever look past the hurt and shame of it all and see me, so flawed and messy, and call me family?"

Time heals all wounds and prayers are answered and today, in my home, love will reign supreme.


And I'll stand here and marvel.


Gratitude:


for forgiveness

For family-love
For a group of imperfect people coming together
For a husband who encourages
For relationships that grow stronger with each passing year